


Next Time (I'll Dream Of You)

by Ellidiotts



Series: Rare-Pair One-Shots [6]
Category: Flashback (1990)
Genre: Age Difference, Awkward Conversations, Closeted Character, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Rare Fandoms, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28034967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellidiotts/pseuds/Ellidiotts
Summary: “You know what your problem is?” Free asked with a drunken slur. “You like me. But you won’t admit it.”
Relationships: Huey Walker/Free "John" Buckner
Series: Rare-Pair One-Shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115096
Kudos: 2





	Next Time (I'll Dream Of You)

Free would be lying if he said he wasn’t a mess of emotions and anxiety. Seeing his parents for the first time after all these years caused a roller coaster of feelings, from excitement to fear. All he wanted to do was apologise for the past, for cutting them out of his life-- and hope they could make amends somehow.

Surprisingly, their reunion went better than expected. They understood, even if he didn’t yet. And that was that.

But what was more unexpected was the company Free had found once more, minutes after heading back on to the open road. A familiar face, in a familiar limousine. He could barely contain himself, as usual-- using actions over words to hug the older man with such force that he lifted him off the ground.

Huey slapped him on the back, with perhaps slightly more force than intended. “I spent twenty years running from the feds and now look at me-- stuck with you again.”

Free was grinning ear to ear, still completely caught off guard by the older man’s sudden and unexpected appearance. A rush of mixed emotions overtook him, and he couldn’t quite get out the right words to express himself.

“C’mon.” Huey gestured to the limousine behind them. “Lemme buy you a beer.”

As they headed towards civilization, the sun began to hang low in the sky, dusk approaching with haste. It was the perfect time of the evening to enjoy a beer and good company, and Free was sure that’s exactly what he needed right now.

They pulled up to a rather meek looking pub on a street corner; lights dim and people few, mumbling into their drinks and arguing over games of pool. It was a perfect spot for two old friends to catch up.

If Free was entirely honest with himself - which he never was - then he’d say that this was a great distraction from his current journey to ‘find himself’, as Huey would put it.

Finding a quiet spot at the end of the bar, the two men took a seat, waving down the bartender for a pair of drinks.

“So,” Huey started, shooting the younger man a knowing smirk. “How’s the _soul searching_ journey going for you?”

There it was, the one question he wasn't ready for.

“Oh, you know. Getting there.” Free shrugged with a half-hearted smile. “I’d spent so long being the perfect middle-class citizen, that I’d forgotten who I was.”

“That’s part of the journey, Buckner. The freedom of the open road, wind in the sails--” Huey paused a moment, as if he was caught in his own memories. “There’s nothing quite like it.”

Free chuckled at the thought of the older man going on such a journey as he was; riding an Indian along the coast line with hippy attire. It was quite the thought.

“When was the last time _you_ went out on a bike?” Free teased, knowing full well it was probably before he was born.

Huey scoffed, shrugging him off. “My road trippin’ days are long over, man.” He took a hearty swig of his beer. “Same with my hippy days.”

The younger man laughed so suddenly he caught himself off guard. He found it so hard to believe that the Huey he knew now was the same man he’d met in that prison cell. His hippy persona had all but disappeared.

“Coulda fooled me, Huey.”

* * *

“So, that’s it then?” Huey pressed, eyes narrowing. “How long’ll you keep this up for?”

Free blinked, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“You’re young, Buckner.” His expression softened, the conversation suddenly taking a serious turn. “You’ll be settling down with someone in no time. White picket fence and the whole deal.”

Right. Of course he'd think that. 

“I doubt it.” Free turned away, attempting to hide his face. “It’s not really my thing.”

“...Which part?” Huey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“All of it. I’m not cut out for a life like that.” He surveyed the area, becoming nervous at the line of questioning. “The open road is where I belong.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, kid. At least not on my watch.” Huey slapped a hand on his shoulder, turning them around to stare at the other patrons of the bar. “Just look at the selection you got out there.”

Free all but zoned out at the older man’s rants about being young, meeting women, _experimentation_ (whatever the hell that meant), and his days on the road with people he’d never seen since. Sometimes it was conversations like this that made Free realise just how different the two of them were, and the clear generational gap that hovered between them.

“Just… stop,” Free requested, pulling back far enough to be out of reach. “Please.”

“Sorry, dude.” He raised his hands up as a sign he was backing off. “Didn’t mean to kill the mood--”

“That kind of lifestyle…” The younger man grimaced, voice lowering to a whisper. “People like _that_. They’re not my... type.”

Huey paused. “Then what _is_ your type?” He pressed, leaning forward as if he was about to learn some grand secret.

“Why does it matter?” Free replied bitterly, becoming flustered at the sudden invasion of privacy. “I don’t want a girlfriend. I don’t want to get married, or have kids-- I don’t need _anyone_.”

As vague as Free was with his choice of words, he knew he’d said too much-- and he felt his heart stop as the realisation dawned on the older man's face. 

“Buckner, I get it.” Huey’s expression softened, as he offered a brief smile. “In all honesty, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Free wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. How could this man see right through his lies? After all the effort he’d made to hide who he was, he still couldn’t live as authentically as he wanted to… and now suddenly he’d spilled his guts out to a man he barely knew.

“If you don't want to--” Free looked around awkwardly, unsure what to do with himself. He chewed on his lip, staring down at himself, before rising from his seat. “I, uh-- sorry, I’ll leave--”

“Wait, kid-- sit down, please.” A gentle hand on his shoulder guided him back down. “I didn’t mean to sound like that. Caught me off guard is all.”

Free complied silently. He probably appeared as ashamed as he felt. He hated being like this. He hated the idea of this entire conversation. He didn’t want to be different, and he certainly didn’t want to lose the people in his life because of it.

It took him another few minutes to gain the courage to look at the other man again.

“Hey man, don’t give me that look,” Huey said gently. “There were plenty of people out during my hippy days, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m all about the freedom to love who you want to.”

Apparently his words weren’t enough to clear the air. Free continued to be uncharacteristically quiet, and it took Huey another few moments of consideration to understand why.

“You’ve… have you ever told this to anyone before?”

Free was hunched forward, both hands caressing his drink. “No,” he replied, bitterness clear in his response. 

“Well why not?”

“It’s not that easy--”

“Kid, you can’t keep living under the image of someone else,” Huey replied sternly, cutting off Free’s poor attempt to protest. “I thought we got past this. I thought old ‘ _John Buckner, FBI agent’_ was long gone.”

“I guess.” Free took a deep breath. “I just… don’t like being different.”

“Me neither. None of us do. But take it from me-- don’t waste your time being someone you’re not. Even if it’s just to publish a book, there are better ways.”

Free finally cracked a smile. “Like getting shot on the back of a moving train?”

“Sure, why not?”

Huey hadn’t expected such a turn in conversation, immediately feeling guilt for how much he’d unintentionally pried. But he’d always had a rather soft spot for the kid. 

Probably _too much_ of a soft spot, which was more concerning.

“Times are changing, Buckner,” the hippy replied softly. “You’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”

Free downed the last of his beer, averting his eyes. “Thanks, Huey.”

* * *

By the end of their fourth beer, Huey had started a long rant about the old days, and managed to quote Easy Rider far too many times for any sane man, sober or otherwise. It was a sign that they’d probably had more than enough, at least, for now-- and it didn’t help that the bartender was refusing to serve them any longer, thanks to Free’s inability to hold his liquor.

They eventually stumbled out to the roadside. Free leaned up against the nearest stable surface in fear of falling over himself, while Huey found a payphone by the corner to call his limo driver. 

Thankfully it didn’t take long, as Free could feel the world begin to spin around him, and he wasn’t sure if he could keep himself upright any longer.

“Woah, easy there Buckner-- careful,” Huey chided, pulling the younger man’s arm securely over his shoulder. 

Free was limp in his arms, and mumbled something under his breath that Huey couldn’t quite make out.

“Didn’t quite catch that, kid.” The older man leaned down, just as Free’s eyes opened enough for Huey to see the multiple colours of his iris.

“Free,” he stated louder this time, head turning in such a way that made them uncomfortable close. “Call me Free. Please…”

The way he looked at Huey made the older man feel uneasy. But he wasn’t going to say no.

“Alright, Free,” Huey grumbled, hailing the limousine as it came into view. “Let’s get you home.”


End file.
